"Bachi, get up," Fang Yun said.
"Yes, sir." Yu Bachi rose briskly, his head still lowered as he stole glances at Fang Yun out of the corner of his eye.
Ao Huang jumped down from his chair, strolled over to Doggie, who was kneeling and kowtowing, and kicked him in the face.
After taking human form, Ao Huang had lost most of his strength, but he was still far stronger than an adult. That kick nearly drove Doggie's nose into his face. He let out a howl of agony, blood and tears streaming down as he clutched his face and kept screaming.
"You thought you could steal this dragon's delicious food? It's only because Fang Yun is here that I can't cut loose. Otherwise, I'd have eaten you already! Little thugs like you really are stupid beyond belief. You might be having more fun than everyone else now, but once you're all grown up and everyone your age has a family and a livelihood, compare yourselves to them then. You'll regret it to death! Stupid doesn't even begin to cover it. Are those heads of yours just there to make you taller?"
Everyone stared in astonishment at this five- or six-year-old boy. No one could have said such things without experiencing them firsthand.
Fang Yun shot Ao Huang an exasperated look. He had said those words during a casual conversation earlier, and Ao Huang had learned every last one.
Doggie was still kneeling, banging his head against the floor, his arms trembling all the while. In the eyes of the truly powerful great clans, Fang Yun's foundations were shallow and his literary rank low; he had status but lacked strength. Yet to a street thug like Doggie, who was not even a Licentiate, Fang Yun was only a little beneath